


Darkness Falls

by arcadian_dream



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-18
Updated: 2011-04-18
Packaged: 2017-10-18 07:41:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/186532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arcadian_dream/pseuds/arcadian_dream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Burrow strains; it quivers beneath the weight of all the things being unsaid. The fear, and the uncertainty. Ron just wishes that it would be acknowledged, rather than avoided.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Darkness Falls

Summer wanes, and it seems to Ron that the Burrow strains; it quivers beneath the weight of all the things being unsaid. The fear, and the uncertainty.

As his mother bustles about the house giving orders about this and that for Bill and Fleur's wedding, Ron thinks that it is as though the family's excitement and joy at the occasion is exaggerated, forced.

An enormous plaster carelessly slapped over a gaping wound.

But it isn't enough.

It may never be enough.

It still bleeds.

In every assertion that everything will be fine, and in every gaze that Ron's parents can't quite hold, the blood trickles in thin, surreptitious rivulets from the wound.

 _“Everything will be alright, everything will be alright.”_

Ron swears he can hear it in his sleep, a tired mantra that rings throughout the house, hollow.

And under these cracking words Ron can feel everything crumbling beneath his feet.

Everything.

With a low, mournful sigh, he scrawls a note and attaches it to Pigwidgeon's leg before ushering him out through the window.

Ron watches the sun set from his bedroom and waits for night to fall.

*

Quietly, Ron eases open the door. Faint amber light from the bedside lamp falls in a long, slender ribbon across the landing, illuminating a path in the dark. Eyes darting, Ron steps out of his room and pulls the door to behind him, bathing the staircase in night once more.

With hesitant steps and furtive, straining glances he descends the steps.

 _Careful, careful._

*

Past the bounds of the Burrow's yard now, Ron reaches into the back pocket of his jeans. Extracting his wand, he twirls it absently between his index and middle fingers as he walks through the tall, unkempt fields. Holding it aloft, his lips peremptorily pursed in anticipation, Ron casts a charm to light his way, and continues on.

It's just a little further now; just a little.

*

By the time Ron reaches the lake, the moon sits high in the sky. It beams, wide and flat rays fanning out over the grass, the hills, and the placid water. It is, Ron thinks, brighter than some days and with an almost regretful sigh he mutters, “ _Nox_ ” and tucks his wand into the back of his jeans.

And then, he sees her.

“Luna,” Ron calls, hurrying towards the lake. Sheaves of grass rustle against his legs with each hasty movement; raucous and orchestral.

“Luna,” Ron says again as he comes to a stop lakeside. “You came.”

Luna is lying down when Ron arrives, but at his words she raises herself up on her elbows and turns to look at him.

Low, silvery moonlight falls across her pale, pink-cheeked face, illuminating her eyes and the dirty-blonde hair that cascades over her bare shoulders.

She is ethereal.

“Of course I did,” she remarks, “you asked me to.” Hauling herself into a more upright position, Luna pulls her legs in close and sits cross-legged in the grass, gazing up at Ron.

She pats the vacant ground beside her, indicating that Ron should join her; and he complies.

“I know,” Ron says as he gets to his knees and then rocks back on his haunches. “I know I asked you to come but -”

“What?” Luna places a hand on the flat of Ron's muscular, denim-clad thigh.

“I wasn't sure you would. Secret meetings in the middle of the night and all. It's a bit … strange.”

Luna shrugs. “It sounded important. Your letter.”

“...yeah,” Ron says, but falters. He is unsure as to how he should continue – at the time of writing, his concerns, his questions seemed like the most important thing in the world but now, as he sits by the lake, by Luna, all he feels is foolish; childish. Suddenly embarrassed by his compulsion to reach out, Ron looks away from Luna and into the distance. Silence falls.

“Ron?” Luna prods after a moment. “What was it?”

Ron takes a deep breath. He at once wants to say something, and doesn't. Opening his mouth to speak, Ron closes it again, hesitating.

Without a word, Luna inclines her body towards Ron. She raises her hand from where it rests on his thigh and fumbles for his fingers in the grass; taking Ron's hand in her own.

“Ron,” Luna whispers, squeezing Ron's hand,“tell me.”

Exhaling, Ron closes his eyes, momentarily shutting out the prying gaze of the moon's glow and he begins to tell Luna about Harry, Hermione, and the Horcruxes.

*

It pours out of Ron, clothed in the anonymity of night; all the things that no-one has dared to say in recent months, but that everyone has been thinking.

All the things that they can't help thinking.

“I just wish,” Ron says, lying against the ground, “I just wish that someone - _anyone_ \- would tell me the truth about it all. Just – _once_ – I'd like to hear that it might not be alright, you know?”

He turns his head to look at Luna sitting beside him.

She still holds his hand, and his gaze.

“Luna?” Ron says, anxious for a response – for _any_ kind of response.

“Yes?”

“Did you hear me?”

She nods. “Of course. But you don't need me to tell you that it may not be alright. You already know that.”

“I know,” Ron says, “I just … needed someone to know that I know, I suppose.”

Luna nods and grips Ron's hand tighter still. She shifts, lowering herself into a prostrate position beside him on the ground. Rolling onto her side, Luna presses her knee against Ron's thigh; without warning, she rests her head on his shoulder.

“I know, Ron,” she mouths against Ron's tee shirt, “I know.”

Ron swallows nervously. He stiffens under the unexpected intimacy and warmth of Luna's touch.

“Luna?” Ron manages to choke out as Luna places a hand flat across his abdomen and his voice fails him.

“Yes?”

“What're you -” Ron pauses to clear his throat, “what're you doing?”

He can feel the hitch and release of Luna's shoulders as she shrugs against him; as she allows her fingers to wander over the rhythmic rise and fall of his belly.

“It may not be alright,” she says simply. With a single, slow movement, Luna rolls throws one leg over Ron as she rolls on top of him and leans down, pressing her lips flush against Ron's.

Taken aback by this turn of events, Ron lies still or, rather, he tries to, but the weight of Luna on top of him, _against_ him, excites Ron. Gasping as Luna's tongue finds his, Ron writhes below her; and as his cock strains against the taut fabric of his jeans, she grinds against him until they are grasping desperately, moaning into one another's mouths; two determined to deny the impending darkness of what the days ahead may bring.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Wizard Love 2011.


End file.
